Dear Santa Claus, I hope that you
Will find it easy to get through
Our chimney, 'cause if you should stick
Up there where all the smoke is thick,

What would we do, and what would you,
For goodness sakes, what would you do?
So if you find it is not wise
Enough for you to safely slide

Down to our room without mistake,
The attic window you must take.
It's quite close to the chimney, too,
And big enough, I know, for you.

I'll creep up there the day before
And leave unlocked the attic door;
And if I can I'll open, too,
The window so you can get through
Without the leastest bit of fuss
With all the presents you've for us.
I don't see how you'll tell apart
Our stockings, so you'd better start

With mine; it's close up to the clock;
The next is father's silken sock;
The others all are just like mine,
'Cept Jimmy's—his is tied with twine.

I want a doll with violet eyes
Who, when you squeeze her, "Mamma!" cries;
And little baby carriage, too,
With pillows and a cover blue;

Some candy and a china set
Of teacups for my dolly pet.
Jim wants a ball, a mask and bat,
A soldier suit, a gun and hat,

Some candy and a picture book
For rainy days at which to look.
Mother says she'll write to you,
And father says that he will, too.

Now, please remember what I've said
About the attic overhead;
The window which I'll leave for you
Wide open so you can get through;

And whose each stocking is, and where,
When you come creeping down the stair,
Good- by, dear Santa Claus, I've wrote
All I can think of in this note.

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